


The Jock and The Programmer

by xaccier



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Arguments, Coding, College AU, Computer Programming, Falling In Love, Feelings, Feelings Realization, First Meetings, George isn’t used to being in love, Gream - Freeform, High School AU, M/M, Pining, Sapnap Is A Great Wingman, Slow Burn, class with sapnap is a nightmare, dates question mark?, dream wants to learn coding, dream x george, dreamnotfound, george just wants to code, idk which one i cant choose man, jock dream, programmer george, quackity and Karl being best friends, sapnap is so done with their shit, the peer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28385643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaccier/pseuds/xaccier
Summary: George’s friends start to worry when he continuously locks himself inside to code—a habit he’s had for a long time. Upon meeting an unlikely friend, though, George’s world starts to shift, and maybe he’ll be broken out of his unhealthy habit.“Sounding pretty frustrated, there.”George jumped, a small yelp of surprise bubbling up in his throat. With a hand over his heart, George turned around, muttering with a breathy tone, “What the fuck, man—“George’s words were caught in his throat as bright green eyes stared back at him, surprised, and the brunette gulped. He probably shouldn’t swear at the most popular boy in school, should he?—nice!jock dream and programmer george au, give it a go :)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 337





	1. Library

**Author's Note:**

> please don’t shove this work or any other form of fanfic into the cc’s faces.  
> this pic was inspired by a comment I saw on a random tiktok a few months ago and I have no idea who wrote it or even what it said at this point but we got this out of it so yay  
> please enjoy :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george makes an unlikely friend

George was annoyed. Nothing was working the way it was supposed to; all of the tips and tricks he’d learnt in his classes slipped from his mind as it became clouded with defeat and exhaustion. A small hush from a random student across the desk made his annoyance disappear briefly, instead replaced by embarrassment as he remembered that he was in the middle of the public school library. A quiet apology was emitted from his mouth, and he winced at the eye roll he received back as the mystery girl turned back to her book.

Turning his attention back to his computer, George sighed. The pixelated coding site was making his eyes hurt, and he blinked away the sting that prickled behind them. He wasn’t sure how many hours he’d spent staring at the bright screen, but he knew that, by now, only a few other students remained in the library.

George wished he could skim through his textbooks right now, and he cursed Quackity under his breath for his lack of help; his friend had thrown a pebble from one of George’s fake plants through his window during their stay at his house last week, when George had gone to the bathroom, and lets just say that by the time George returned, Karl, Quackity and Sapnap were all mysteriously asleep and he was left with a shattered hole in his casement. That then meant that George was forced to call the repairman, who came by on the one day George had planned to revise. Now, he was left with no revision sheets, no textbooks, and he was forced to keep his complaining down to a minimum—not a good way for him to learn at all.

Another groan of irritation left George’s mouth, and he held his head in his hands. For a coder, he didn’t have a lot of motivational willpower.

“Sounding pretty frustrated, there.”

George jumped, a small yelp of surprise bubbling up in his throat. With a hand over his heart, George turned around, muttering with a breathy tone, “What the fuck, man—“

George’s words were caught in his throat as bright green eyes stared back at him, surprised, and the brunette gulped. He probably shouldn’t swear at the most popular boy in school, should he?

Dream was his name—well, nickname—and for some reason, the popular football player was at the library on this random Thursday night, and he’d taken an interest in George. _George_ , the standard, average programmer student.

A chuckle was heard from the blonde male who stood in front of George’s chair, and George took the liberty to turn his body slightly to face him—because, apparently, they were now having a conversation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

George realised he’d been staring, and he flushed in embarrassment. “Oh, no, it’s okay…” George’s words trailed off as Dream moved to the side, bending over and peering at the brunette's computer screen. George felt his palms begin to sweat; he wasn’t used to people looking at his work.

George’s eyes flicked to meet Dream’s, who was staring intently at the code with an interested sparkle in his eyes. George felt a weird rush of pride well in his chest, until it was replaced by sheer confusion because, _‘Why is Dream staring at my work?’_

Before he could voice his concerns, though, Dream interrupted him. “This is really cool.”

In any other case, George would’ve felt mocked. Cool? George had been _bullied_ for his programming—someone calling it ‘ _cool’_ should feel like a stab to the neck. Although, for some reason, the glint of fascination in Dream’s eyes mixed with the authentic tone of his words made George unable to refuse the compliment. The blonde reached forward and gently placed his closed fist onto the desk, seemingly steadying himself.

“Thank you…?” George answered, voice small, although it came out as more of a confused question.

He couldn’t lie; he was intimidated by Dream’s entire presence—the way he presented himself, his confident aura… everything about him screamed assertiveness and dominance.

George’s attention followed Dream as he straightened himself up. The blonde hooked his fingers under the strap of his backpack, pulling it securely onto his shoulder, and gave a small smile to George. George’s words were caught in is throat once again as Dream turned his back to him and looked back over his shoulder to make eye contact.

“You should teach me sometime.”

George’s mouth fell open as he stared after Dream, who’s figure became smaller and smaller as he walked away. George only turned back to his computer when Dream was out of sight, and his head felt dizzy. He felt even more in a daze when he noticed the small scrap of paper folded up on his keyboard.

Picking it up slowly, George scanned around him as though he was in the midst of a prank. Everyone was too emerged in their books and late due essays to notice George’s spiralling thoughts, though.

_‘How was this real? Did the Dream really just do that? When did he put this paper here? What’s on the paper? Was he being serious?’_

George gently unfolded the paper, and scrawled on the back of it in—surprisingly neat—handwriting, was a phone number, accompanied by the name _‘Dream’_ with a small smiley-face.

George stared at it, unmoving. He was mostly wondering when Dream had had the time to write the note—that was, before he realised that someone as popular as him probably carried around a notebook full of his own contact, ready to give out to anyone who wanted it. George was also shell-shocked, and his heart was beating fast—he ignored that, though, and stuffed the paper into his jean pocket. He still couldn’t tell if Dream was being serious— _did he genuinely want George to teach him, or was he just being sarcastic?_

Shaking his head, George let his fingers hover back over his keyboard, trying to rid his head of unnecessary thoughts. He couldn’t afford to become distracted, considering he was already falling slightly behind in his classes.

Pushing the thoughts of Dream to the back of his mind, (as hard as a task that was) George continued to rack his brain over his coding, sparing a few glances at the door where Dream had exited, expecting him to come bursting through them at any moment yelling, _“You’ve been pranked!”_

He never did.

—

“Ow!” George cried out, hand moving to cover his face, which stung from the slap. Sapnap snickered. “Why did you hit me?”

“I didn’t!” Sapnap claimed. “It was Sam!”

Sam’s head flew up from the book he was reading at the mention of his name. “Huh?”

George rolled his eyes. “I know it was you, Sapnap,” He scoffed. “I’m not an idiot.” The group laughed, and Sapnap sunk into his beanbag chair, pouting.

Quiet chatter emerged from the group of friends, conversations about teachers and classes flying through the air. George sat with his mouth closed, deep in thought once again now that his cheek had stopped stinging.

It had been a few days since the incident with Dream in the library, and it lay heavily on George’s mind. He’d been debating whether or not he should text Dream for the past three days, and it had been occupying his thoughts so much that he barely got a wink of sleep the night before. The longer he left it, the more he worried.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Sapnap questioned, plonking himself down next to George on the blue beanbag and knocking the brunette out of his thoughts.

George pondered telling Sapnap for a second, until he remembered that Sapnap and Dream were friends. “You know Dream, right?”

Sapnap seemed surprised by the sudden question, but he smiled and answered, “Yeah. We’re childhood friends.” Sapnap seemed smug as he added, “I’d even say that we’re best friends.”

George turned his attention to floor, breaking eye contact.

Sapnap was quick to add, “Hey, man, we’re best friends too. Don’t be upset.”

George ignored Sapnap’s worries. “Has he ever been interested in coding?”

Again, Sapnap looked surprised. “Uh…” he seemed to think. “I don’t know? I don’t think so.”

George hummed. He could feel Sapnap’s questioning gaze on him, patiently waiting for him to explain. He sighed. “Dream gave me his number and asked me to teach him to code sometime.” George started, cutting off any response Sapnap could muster before he even had a chance, adding, “I don’t know if he was being serious, though. And _I_ didn’t give him _my_ number, so the only way for him to get in contact is if I text him first. But I don’t want to text him if he’s messing with me, you know?”

George’s rambling came to a close as all of the thoughts that had been gathering in the corners of his mind spewed out of his mouth like a waterfall. Sapnap made sure he was finished before sighing, taking in all of the information a lot better than George had expecting him to, and saying, “Look, George… Dream may be popular, and slightly unpredictable—“ George rested his chin on his hands, a look of, _‘you could say that again’,_ painted on his face. “—But he’s not a liar. If Dream said that he was interested, then he was being serious.”

George still wasn’t convinced. “I just don’t get why he’d ask me, though? What was so special about me that he chose to ask me instead of a professional?”

“Because, George,” Sapnap said, voice riddled with a sing-song tone, ”You’re interesting. You have this... _aura_ about you that just attracts people,” Sapnap smiled. George looked away, flustered at the praise. He should really work on that. “And anyway, if he really is just messing with you, then I promise I’ll kick his ass on your behalf. Is that fair?”

George chuckled. He was glad he had a friend like Sapnap—even if he was annoying as hell sometimes. “That’s fair.”

Sapnap smirked, smacking George on the back before hopping up out of the chair and running over to Quackity and Karl, collapsing on top of them and earning a few roars of laughter. George stared.

“Idiots,” he muttered.

—

A cloud of cold mist evaporated in front of George’s face as he breathed out. Floridian nights were usually very warm, especially compared to England, but for some reason tonight was sort of cold.

George’s hand floated around idly in his pocket, hovering over his phone. He felt dumb—he was seriously considering texting Dream.

_‘Why do I even want to? It’s not like I’m a teacher. Plus, I can barely keep up with classes myself. It would be more than a dumb idea to text him,’_ George thought. He paused. _‘Then again, it would be nice to see that fascinated glint in green eyes once more.’_

George pulled his phone out, quickly typing in his passcode with numb fingers before flipping to his contacts. He dug through his jean pockets and grabbed the slip of paper, unfolding it and copying it into a new contact. He named it _‘Dream’_.

He thought about what to say for a while, typing out sentences and hitting backspace so many times that he physically cringed, sighing. Eventually, he settled with a simple question, and he sent it before he could actually think about what he was doing. Sapnap’s words from earlier that day rang through his head.

**_George 8:12pm_ **

_hi dream, its george. i was wondering if you were still down for learning some programming?_

George tipped himself back onto his heels, pointing his face up at the sky. He had taken a detour to a nearby park on his way home from Karl’s house, and night had already fallen, the sky cast in a beautiful navy blue. George admired the way the stars twinkled from so far away—the constellations captivated him, they always had. It was somehow calming looking up at the endless sky; like none of his worries mattered.

He felt that way for a few minutes, until his phone pinged in his hand, vibrating up his arm with a gentle buzz.

**_Dream 8:21pm_ **

_hi! yeah, i’m still down. let me know whenever you’re free and we can hop on a call :)_

George read the message again. And then again. And one more time.

Dream’s overwhelmingly kind writing confused George—he hadn’t expected the guy to be so welcoming. Thinking about it, though, he shouldn’t have been so surprised; any friend of Sapnap’s had to be at least half decent. He thought about that as he sent his next message:

**_George 8:23pm_ **

_i’m free tonight?_

_—_

George fidgeted in his chair, squeaking leather clearly audible through discord from Sapnap’s groan that echoed through George’s headphones. He winced.

“Dude, why are you so nervous?” Sapnap whined, and George cursed him for knowing him so well. “Dream’s a nice guy! You’ll get along.”

It was George’s turn to groan. “I’m not nervous!” He defended himself. “And how can you possibly know that?”

“Uh,” Sapnap started. “Because he’s my best friend?” Sapnap stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and George rolled his eyes. Although, not that he’d admit it, Sapnap’s familiar nonchalant energy calmed George’s nerves. “Alright, well… I’m heading out now, good luck with your call! Tell Dream I said hi!”

George wanted to protest, tell him to stay a bit longer, but Sapnap disconnected from the call before he could say anything. That guy had a knack for interrupting people.

George took a deep breath in. Dream and him had exchanged discord usernames over text and Dream said he’d call him when he was done with football practise (which apparently went on way into the night considering it was already nearly ten) so George was left waiting for the familiar sound of a discord call to come through.

George wasn’t a nervous person. Sure, he wasn’t the most popular, and he only had a few close friends, but that didn’t make him an introvert. To be honest, he was mostly just awkward around new people—and he liked to keep to himself, considering he spent so much of his time coding. He wasn’t exactly _nervous,_ per se, but he could feel his heart rate spike now that he was left alone.

It didn’t help when a ringtone blasted into his ears through his headphones, either. Throat suddenly dry, George moved his cursor to answer the call.

As soon as he clicked his mouse, Dream’s voice filtered into his ears.

“Hi,” he said, voice cheerful and bright.

“Hello,” George replied, keeping his voice even. “How are you?” A friendly greeting in a new conversation was always a good start.

He heard a deep chuckle come from the other line. “I’m doing well, thank you,” Dream replied kindly. “How about you?”

“I’m also good,” George replied, and he gave himself a mental pat on the back for numbing his usual awkward replies. Dream hummed.

“Thank you for agreeing to help me,” Dream started, and George peered over at Dream’s glowing icon on his second monitor. “I haven’t told this to anyone, but I’ve always loved the idea of coding. Unfortunately, though, I can’t wrap my head around it. I’m really excited to start learning and I couldn’t be more grateful to you for helping out.”

George was surprised at Dream’s instant honesty, as he’d expected him to be a little bit more closed off considering it was their first time on a call. He didn’t mind it, though, because it made the awkwardness of first calls a little dimmer. The brunette listened intently to Dream’s rambling, face lighting up embarrassingly at the praise.

He didn’t have the heart to tell Dream about the amount of thought he put into whether he could actually be bothered to teach him or not—and he definitely didn’t bring up the fact that he doubted Dream’s want to code.

“Oh, and also…” Dream started, and George looked back up at his computer. “… I wanted to apologise, too. I know I sort of threw this whole ‘I want to code’ thing on you, so I just wanted to say that if you don’t want to teach me, you can back out now.” George’s mouth didn’t seem to work. “I don’t want you to think that you have to help me because of my ‘status’ or whatever… so don’t worry about that. Just- I just want you to only do this if you feel like it, not just because I asked you to—“

“Dream, its fine,” George interrupted, and the ranting from Dream’s end stopped. George suddenly felt on the spot, and he felt heat rise to his cheeks. “I-I want to teach you. I thought about it, and... I think it could be fun. You never know, maybe you’ll teach me a few things, too.”

George wasn’t exactly sure what he was saying at this point, but he would say anything to stop the guilt trip Dream was putting him through.

The blonde let out a relieved sigh, and George felt his chest tighten with guilt. “Thank God. I was actually worried for a second there.” George laughed. “Okay, shall we screen share? You can show me the basics.”

George hummed, nodding. “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

“Cool.”

George opened up his coding site and clicked through a few tabs on discord, and suddenly his screen popped up on Dream’s. They got straight into it, and soon enough all of George’s worries had evaporated as he was overcome by his passion for coding.

It only took around an hour for Dream to get into it.

“Hey, George?” Dream asked as George clicked through the many tabs of HTML that the two had been working on.

“Mhm?” George answered, a small noise of acknowledgement considering he was too busy typing to fully answer.

“Do you think,” Dream started, and the uncertainty in his voice made George’s typing slow down. “That we can code video games? Or stuff like that?”

George stopped moving completely. _‘Video games?’_ he thought. _‘I’ve never even considered that.’_

“I’m not sure,” George answered honestly. “I mean—we can try it, if you want.”

“Really?” Dream’s voice seemed to light up at the idea, and George was taken back to the day he first coded a website. The raw, unfiltered curiosity was nostalgic to George.

“Yeah, of course,” George said. “What video game do you want to try? We can mess with the coding of it and change some stuff depending on what game you choose,” George hoped his wording made sense, and from Dream’s quiet thinking noises, he guessed he understood.

“Maybe—and don’t laugh at me here—“ Dream sighed, and George cocked his head to the side, interest spiked. “—We could try Minecraft? It seems like there’s a lot to tinker with on there.”

George was more than surprised. If you asked him last week what he’d be doing with his Sunday, he would have never guessed that the most popular boy in school would ask to play _Minecraft together._

“That’s…” George trailed off, thinking about it. “… Actually not a bad idea.” Dream whooped in amusement, and George smiled. “I have Minecraft installed, do you want to hop on a new server?”

“Yeah!” Dream agreed enthusiastically. “Sounds good to me.”

And so the two boys booted up their game, and soon enough George’s avatar was running around in front of Dream’s green one. Dream gave him a quick hit, and George hit him back, and that carried on until George remembered why they were there in the first place.

“Okay, okay, lets get to codi—“ George was cut off by Dream shooting him with a bow. “—Oi! Stop it!”

Dream laughed, and George hit him back. The two finally stopped messing around, though, and George asked “Alright, what do you want to code?”

“Well…” Dream said. “I’ve actually had this idea for a quite a while.” George raised an eyebrow, interested. Dream started talking in a producer—like voice, pretending his was introducing an act or something—it made George giggle. “What if we do… Minecraft, _but..._ we can use x-ray.”

George instantly liked the sound of that. “X-ray?” he repeated.

“Mhm,” Dream replied. “I don’t know if we can do it, but it seems fun.”

“I mean…” George didn’t want to crush his dreams. “X-ray is already a thing in Minecraft.” Dream immediately groaned, frustrated that his idea was null and void. George felt bad, and quickly thought of a new and improved version: “But… we can try something else? Like, maybe we can add on to your idea?”

“Oh?” Dream perked up. “How?”

“What if we do Minecraft, but X-ray is always on? So, you can only see certain blocks?”

Dream seemed to think about it for a second. “And what? We have to beat the game with it on or something?”

“Yeah!” George liked that idea. Plus, he wasn’t the best at beating the game, so that would make it even more of a challenge. “How about it? You down to help me code it?”

“Of course,” Dream said. “Although, I can’t promise that I’ll be much help.”

“Nonsense,” George laughed, his English accent peeking through for a second. “You’ll do great. Its good practise, anyway.”

Dream smiled, nodding even though George couldn’t see him. “Right.”

—

It was a few hours later when George felt himself yawn. He checked the clock on his monitor, and nearly winced when he realised it was almost 2am.

The two had spent a long time on Minecraft after getting their code to work, and George had never had so much fun programming before. Deciding to implement his skills into a video game was a brilliant idea on Dream’s part. George never wanted to stop.

“Hey, man, if you’re tired we can stop,” Came Dream’s worried voice. George lifted his leg and balanced his foot on the edge of his chair, resting his chin on his knee.

“Nah, its okay,” George replied, stifling another yawn. “Plus, you’re starting to get the hang of this. You’re a natural.” _‘And I’m really enjoying myself.’_

Dream laughed. George smiled. “Yeah, well… we can always pick this back up tomorrow, right?” Dream offered, and George lifted his head up.

“Tomorrow?” George echoed, and he heard Dream shuffle around on the other end.

“Well, yeah,” Dream replied casually. “Unless you’re busy?”

George realised that he must have sounded dismissive, and he quickly corrected himself, “No, no, I’m not busy. I just thought,” he trailed off slightly. “… That you’d have better things to do? I don’t know.” George shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Why would you think that?” Dream’s voice made George’s body tense.

“I just figured you’d have plans,” George admitted quickly, swallowing down his timid-ness that for some reason had bubbled up a lot lately. “Sorry for assuming.”

“No, you’re good,” Dream answered, exhaling. “I get why you’d think that.” George wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but he didn’t question it. Another yawn escaped him, and Dream said, “Okay, well, I think that’s enough learning for today, Teach. Lets pack it up and come back to it tomorrow, yeah?”

George felt his eyelids droop. “Yeah, sure. Call me tomorrow.”

Dream chuckled. “Same time?”

“Yup.”

The two exchanged their goodbyes and promptly hung up. George leant back in his chair, the exhaustion from his nervousness from the past few days finally catching up with him. Shutting off his computer, George rolled his chair away from his desk and stood up, before collapsing onto his bed and falling asleep right then and there.

—

George forced his eyes open when his phone rang for the third time, cringing at the sunlight pooling into his room through the blue curtains and recoiling under the blankets, reaching blindly for his phone that lay on the bedside table. Upon grabbing it, he pulled it into the dark cocoon and grimaced at the bright screen before answering it and holding it up to his ear.

“Hello?” George’s voice was groggy, and he really needed to brush his teeth based on the gross layer that made his mouth taste weird. _‘Morning breath’,_ as Sam had once referred to it.

“George!” Said guy jumped out of his skin at the shouting of his name, head banging at Sapnap’s aggressively loud tone of voice considering it was _8am._

“Sapnap, why the hell are you shouting at 8am?” George groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Actually, why are you calling me at 8am in _general?_ Im trying to sleep—“

“Dude, sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s Monday.”

That woke George up. He flew into a sitting position, throwing the blankets off himself and checking his digital clock. _Monday 27 thSeptember._

“Shit,” George swore, and he heard Sapnap tut at him. “Thanks for waking me. I’m gonna be late.”

“Well yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Sapnap replied sarcastically, and George could practically _hear_ his eye-roll. “I’ll make up an excuse for you for science, but get your ass to school for second lesson because I can’t cover for you then.”

George flung himself out of bed, grabbing a sweatshirt from his closet and sniffing it to make sure it was clean—which it was—and he threw his phone onto the bed after putting it on speaker to quickly dress himself.

“Thanks, Sapnap!” George shouted through the fabric that covered his face. “I owe you one, big time.”

Sapnap scoffed. “Hell yeah you do.” George heard Sapnap promptly hang up, and he grabbed his long, navy shorts before racing downstairs to eat his breakfast.

He hadn’t realised it was Monday already—to be honest, his thoughts were mostly preoccupied with the events of the night before, considering he and Dream had stayed up until all-hours coding. He was in quite a dreamy state for the whole night, not fully taking in anything that was happening—now that he had a second to himself, though, it was an insane night for George. Who would’ve thought that someone as unimportant as him would’ve spent his Sunday night on a call with D _ream? Alone,_ no less?

George grabbed his bag, dry toast stuffed in his mouth as he raced out the door, slamming it shut behind him. He had at least an hour until second period, but he still wanted to get there on time to get his notes for science handed in; he couldn’t be bothered with a detention. Especially not tonight, considering he and Dream were supposed to call again.

Wind drying up his throat as he ran, George cocked his head to the side. That really shouldn’t have been his first thought, should it?

—

George’s lungs burned, and he felt like he was breathing fire by the time he burst through the school doors. Students were already piling into the corridor; George had missed first period. _‘Stupid dog on the side of the road tripping me up,’_ George cursed as he brushed the mud and grass off his knees, _‘I look a mess. And I missed first period.’_

George groaned and stood on his tiptoes, trying to look over the crowd of people to find Sapnap. If it weren’t for his ridiculous white bandana, George wouldn’t have spotted him.

The short boy weaved his way through the endless people, finally emerging on the other side and plonking a firm hand on Sapnap’s shoulder. Said guy whipped his head around from Sam, who he was in the middle of a conversation with, and his face dropped.

“George!” He exclaimed, grabbing both of George’s forearms and blowing the hair out of his own eyes. “Where the honk have you been?”

“I’m sorry!” George whined, his words dragging out. “I—had a bit of a… fall.” George motioned down to his bare, red knees (his navy shorts didn’t soften his fall one bit) and Sapnap’s eyes followed his motioning. His face dropped again.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Quackity’s voice appeared from behind Sapnap as his head popped into view. George winced at the extra attention.

“I just tripped, it’s not a big deal—“

“Dude, its not just that,” Sapnap interrupted. “Your hair’s a mess, your eyes are baggy _and_ you look pale. Did you get _any_ sleep last night?”

George scowled. “I got plenty of sleep last night, thank you,” He claimed defensively. “Actually, maybe if _someone_ hadn’t have woken me up at 8am I would’ve gotten a bit more!”

“I woke you up because you were gonna be late!” Sapnap semi-shouted back, rubbing his temples. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Give me your notes and I’ll hand them in for you. I wasn’t planning on going to second period anyway.”

George wanted to thank him, but his argumentativeness wouldn’t allow him to. Instead, he silently handed over his notes and looked away sheepishly. Sapnap stuffed them into his backpack and grabbed Karl, pulling him away. George knew he wasn’t actually upset—and if he was, he’d be over it in a few hours.

He didn’t have long to ponder it anyway, as the bell rang and signalled the start of second lesson. George sighed, defeated. Utterly defeated.

His next lesson was English, with Quackity, Sam and _Dream._


	2. Fatigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george should really stop falling asleep in class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, don’t shove this fic into the cc’s faces. doing it for any fic, not just mine, especially when the author’s have stated they’re not comfortable with it, is wrong.
> 
> on another note, enjoy <3

The teacher ushered George’s class inside, and everyone separated to get to their seats. Quackity was talking George’s ear off, complaining about how he’d gotten a detention in his last class. George was pretty sure it was religious studies, but then again, he wasn’t really listening.

His attention was instead pulled to a certain blonde haired male, who was chatting away happily to his friends Ponk and Punz (George had heard their names mentioned once or twice before by Sapnap, and it wasn't hard to match a name to a face). It was a strange sensation for George, seeing Dream in school, considering he’d never really thought about Dream’s presence there before. Not to mention, he wasn’t sure if he was allowed— _‘Is that the right word?’_ —to talk to Dream in this situation. He was with his friends, and that intimidated George more than he'd like to admit.

Also, did Dream always sit directly behind George? Or had he just never noticed?

“Now I wont be home in time for dinner!” Quackity raised his voice, annoyed, and George turned his head to look at him. Quackity was clung onto his arm, but George barely noticed. “Were you even listening?” Quackity complained at George's plain stare, and George laughed. Quackity let his arm go.

“Okay, everyone sit down,” The teacher shouted over the chatter, and she lightly tapped Quackity on the back to get him to move. He did, and George followed close behind him. Quackity took his seat, which was close to the front, and left George to sit down alone.

The brunette noticed that Dream was heavily concentrated on his notes, and that left George with no chance to start a conversation with him; after all, he didn’t want to interrupt the guy. Instead, he shook his backpack off his shoulder and pulled his notebooks out of it, placing them gently on his desk before taking a seat, bag thrown haphazardly under his desk.

The lesson started, and it didn’t take long for George to realise that he wasn’t getting anything done. His concentration was pulled purely to the presence behind him—every shift the blonde made George felt echo up his spine. His senses were on overdrive, and he didn’t know why. It was a different atmosphere in school compared to when the two were alone, and now George felt like it was illegal to even look in Dream’s direction.

Apparently though, from the tap he received on his shoulder, Dream didn’t think the same thing. Clearly, George was worried for nothing.

“Psst,” Dream whispered, low enough so the babbling from other people around them was loud enough to drown it out. George still caught it though, and he let his face morph into that of a surprised one. “George.”

The sound of his name on Dream’s tongue made his heart beat faster with anticipation—he couldn’t lie, he felt special considering Dream actually wanted to talk to him in school, and he turned around slightly to face him.

“Hi,” George said, simply, as the two made eye contact. Dream smiled, and George mirrored it.

“Do you get the work?” Dream asked after a second, motioning to George’s paper on his desk and George turned his head to look at his pitiful attempt at his creative writing piece.

“Not one bit,” George answered, eyes closed in disappointment as he turned back around, resting his arms on the back of his chair. He was weirdly comfortable.

“Want me to help you?” Dream asked, and George’s eyes opened.

“Help me?” He repeated.

“Yeah,” Another smile, “Pass it over.” Dream reached out a hand and made grabby-fingers for it. George eyed him suspiciously before handing it over, turning his chair around properly to face Dream’s desk. At this point, he’d completely forgotten about his fretting from the start of the lesson.

George watched carefully as Dream moved his pencil over George’s work, eyes scanning as he read it. “Why are you helping me?” George asked before he could think, and Dream’s movement stopped as he peeked up at George through his golden bangs. Said boy sat up straight, placing his pencil down.

“Well…” Dream started cautiously, as though he were embarrassed to say it. “I mean, I felt bad—because I kept you up… last night.”

George stared at Dream for a second, before he felt the heat rise to his cheeks. He dipped his head to hide it, but Dream must have noticed because he let a snort out, thoughts clearly matching up with George's.

“Okay, that sounded wrong,” George muttered sheepishly. He peeked back up at Dream, who held his head in his hands, body shaking lightly while he tried supressing his laughter.

“Jesus, George,” Dream managed to say in between laughs, hand moving to cover his heart. George felt his stomach swirl. “You should’ve seen your face.”

“Hey!” George crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t blame me, that was a shot in the dark from your end.”

“Whatever you say, George.” The shorter watched silently as Dream’s laughter died down and he picked his pencil back up. “Right here,” He started, pointing at a line in George’s story, as the two decided to move on from Dream's accidental innuendo. “You’ve used a normal colon instead of a semi-colon.”

George was barely listening. Not only did he not understand English no matter how hard he tried, but Dream’s movements were steady and it hypnotised George in a way he’d never experienced before. He was focusing more on getting his heart-rate back down, and trying to calm his embarrassed, flushed face. Thoughts from the night before, when they sat together on call alone, also resurfaced in George’s brain and made him swallow. Dream’s company was something that he’d never expected to have, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it.

George turned his head, surprised at his own thoughts. He blamed it on the exhaustion—after all, he was too tired to think straight. Clearly.

—

The bell signalling the end of the lesson rang faster than George thought it would, as it felt like he had only been joking around with Dream for five minutes compared to the usual endless, negative feeling he felt towards English lessons.

“Damn,” Dream said, looking up at the ceiling where the deafening noise came from, and George’s eyes followed his. “That went by fast, huh?”

“Yeah,” George agreed, voice more dejected than he’d like to admit. “It did.”

Dream hummed, nodding, before looking back at George. “What do you have next?”

“Uh,” George thought for a moment. He honestly couldn’t remember.

“We have History next,” Someone spoke from next to the two, and George looked up to see Quackity. The boy was messing with his black beanie, tucking away the extra strands of hair that had fallen out. “Hi, I’m Quackity, one of George’s friends. Nice to meet you.”

Quackity stuck his hand out, and Dream gingerly shook it, glancing over at George who just shrugged. “I’m Dream.”

“Oh, I know,” Quackity replied, smirking. George rolled his eyes. “George, we need to get going. Sapnap will be mad if you’re late for third lesson too.”

George cringed. “Right.”

“Wait, what?” Dream asked, standing up as George did, both of them pulling their bags over their shoulders. “You know Sap, George?”

George scoffed. “You’re kidding right?” when Dream shook his head, both Quackity and George scoffed again. “Dude, we’re his best friends. Does he never talk about us?”

George could practically hear the cogs turning in Dream’s brain. Suddenly, a flash of _‘Oh shit’_ covered his features, and he lifted a finger to point at George. “Wait… _You’re_ George? As in… _the George?”_

George looked over at Quackity, eyes furrowed, and Dream’s attention turned to him too. After a second of stunned silence from Dream's end, Quackity reached up to scratch the back of his neck meekly. “You probably know me as Alex,” Quackity cleared, shrugging. Dream looked as though his head was going to explode.

“How did I not make that connection?” He asked himself. He shook his head, a light-hearted chuckle escaping him. “Yeah, Sapnap never shuts up about you guys.”

Quackity laughed, turning to George. “Can’t wait to rub that in his face.”

“Right,” George agreed, and the two high-fived, laughing. The second bell rang, and the trio was suddenly aware that, by now, the classroom was empty. “Shit,” George swore. “Sapnap’s gonna murder us.”

“Right,” Quackity agreed. “Excuse us, Dream. We have a History class to get to.”

Waving their goodbyes, George was pulled by Quackity who grabbed onto his hoodie and dragged him away. After some protesting, George gave up and just waved a shy hand at Dream before turning around and muttering swears at Quackity who simply snorted in response. The two made it to their lesson on time, but they were certainly out of breath by the time they got there.

—

George was swimming in white. Everywhere he looked, white coated his vision like a blanket. He wondered if this was what it was like to be blind.

His limbs felt like jelly. He felt like he had no control over himself, and every move he tried to make ricocheted throughout his body, shaking his spine and racking his brain. It felt like a chore trying to keep his own head up, so he let it fall. His body relaxed, floating idly in a sea of white.

George even felt content. That was, until he felt a violent kick to his chair from behind rock his body, and his head jolted up from his desk.

“Do you know the answer, George?” The teacher asked, and George took a moment to collect himself before realising he was in the middle of class.

“Uh—its, um…” George stuttered, quickly wiping away the drool from his mouth. His face flushed red in embarrassment, and he felt the sudden urge to dip his head in shame when he realised all eyes were on him.

“The answer is 1945, Miss,” Sapnap’s voice came from behind George, and the sleepy brunette had never been more thankful for his best friend. The teacher hummed, and George gulped.

“That is incorrect, and I’m pretty sure your name is not George.”

Sapnap shrugged. “My bad.” The teacher scowled at him, before sighing and turning back to the board.

George exhaled, relieved, before whipping around on his chair to face Sapnap who sat behind him.

“Sleeping during class?” Sapnap smirked, whistling. “That’s not like you, Georgie.”

George rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the nickname. “Whatever. Thanks for waking me up.” George realised that their conversation had an odd sense of deja vu, and he winced.

Sapnap kicked his feet up onto George’s chair, simultaneously leaning forward. George felt slightly intimidated by Sapnap’s sudden change in demeanour, as his eyes narrowed at him accusingly.

That was, until he remembered that it was his dumbass friend _Sapnap_ , and he leaned forward to flick him on the forehead.

“Ouch!” Sapnap yelled, before ducking his head as the teacher turned slightly to see who it was. Whisper yelling, he looked back up at George. “What the honk was that for?”

“Stop babying me, Sapnap,” George clicked his tongue at him, ignoring his question. “You’re not my Mum.” When Sapnap pouted, clearly unconvinced by what George was trying to get across, he added, “I’m fine, dude. I was just up really late last night… coding.”

Before he could see any reaction from the black-haired boy, George pushed Sapnap’s legs off his chair and turned back to his desk, He rested his head in his arms again. and George heard a muffled mutter come from Sapnap (something like, “That damn project of yours,”) but George was too busy letting the white screen consume him again to really care.

It was lucky that the teacher didn’t call on him again for the rest of the lesson, because George was out like a light.

—

The sun had just dipped below the horizon when George heard a Discord call blast through his headphones. He quickly tabbed out of his project (that same one he’d been working on in the Library—somehow, he wasn’t nearly finished) and he opened up Discord. Answering the call, he muttered a quick and tired, “Hello?”

“George!” Dream’s excited voice rang through George’s headphones, and his hand came up to move it away from one of his poor ears. he had to admit, though, hearing Dream's familiar crap mic quality made George feel _almost_ homely, especially compared to hearing him in real life. Almost.

“Dream?” George asked, voice questioning. He wrapped his arms around his knee, which was pulled up to his chest.

“George,” Dream repeated. “Guess what.”

“What?” George asked suspiciously.

Dream whistled, and George heard leather squeaking so he assumed that the blonde had leant back in his chair. “I actually coded something. And it worked!”

“Really?” George asked, more proud than surprised. He sat up straight in his chair, leg lowering back down onto the floor. He pulled himself back under his desk, elbows resting on the wood as he leant his face into his palm. “That’s amazing, Dream. Well done.” George couldn’t match Dream’s energy, but he hoped that the sincerity in his voice was enough.

It was, apparently. “Thank you, George,” Dream answered, and the brunette couldn’t help but smile. He could practically hear Dream glowing from across the line, and the feeling was something that George had experienced when he first started coding, too. The thought of him helping someone else feel that way made his heart soar. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Another thump of his heart, and George’s mouth moved before he could think. “I’m really glad we’re friends.”

A few things crossed George’s mind immediately after saying that. Firstly, he was embarrassed. He never even said things like that to Sapnap, never mind someone like Dream who he’d only met a few days prior. Secondly, _what was he thinking?_ George didn’t know if Dream even thought of him as a friend back.

Thirdly, _why wasn’t Dream replying?_

It took a few seconds—which felt like a few hours to George—for Dream to reply. Eventually, when his mind caught up with his words, Dream mumbled back quietly, “I’m really glad we’re friends too, George.”

Instantly, George’s worries evaporated. He felt himself sink into his chair, and the two maintained their relaxed, calm conversations and atmosphere throughout the rest of their call. George’s fatigue fizzled out slowly, and he completely forgot that it was Monday and he had school the next day. Thankfully though, about an hour later, Dream—the voice of reason—told him to actually get some sleep that night, and so they parted ways and George headed straight to bed.

—

Dream’s revelation about George during their English class a few days prior made George wonder, and he was so curious that he decided to ask.

“Hey, Sapnap?” George called over to his friend, who was sat on George’s couch flipping mindlessly through channels on the TV. George was stationed at his kitchen counter.

“Yeah?” Sapnap replied back casually, gaze not moving from the TV.

“I’ve been wondering,” George leant back in his chair, “Why did you never introduce me to Dream?”

Sapnap’s movements halted, and George suddenly wondered if he had said something wrong.

”... Are you kidding?” Came Sapnap’s voice after a minute, and the black-haired boy slowly turned around to face George.

”What?” George asked, eyebrows creasing in confusion.

Sapnap sucked a breath in through his nose, irritated. “I literally did.”

”You did what?” George asked, tone edging the line of defensiveness.

Sapnap threw his head back, before jumping up off the couch and running to stand in front of George. “I asked you if you wanted to hang out with me and Dream, and you said no.”

”What?” George uttered. “When? Huh?”

”How do you not remember?” Sapnap groaned, a hand dragging down his face. George felt dumb, but he couldn’t rack his brain hard enough to remember anything. “We were in a call,” Sapnap started recalling the memory, “And I asked if you wanted to come down to Shake Shack with me and Dream, and you said no because,” He put up two fingers as quotation marks, “‘I’m starting my programming course today.’”

George cringed at the horrible English accent that Sapnap had tried to imitate, before the memory flooded back into his head.

”Wait—“ George ushered, “That was Dream? You were asking to indroduce me to _Dream?”_

“Yuh-huh,” Sapnap mocked, rolling his eyes. “You never listen to me, do you?” George couldn’t believe it—he’d blown Sapnap off that day like it was nothing, when he could’ve started his friendship with Dream much earlier. He felt mad at himself—that was, again, before he remembered that he could be mad at Sapnap instead.

”You idiot!” He exclaimed, reaching over the counter to whack Sapnap over the head. George cut him off before he could complain. “You should’ve forced me to go!”

Sapnap rubbed his head, wincing. “I tried, George! But you know what you’re like, whenever you decide to lock yourself up in the house, you don’t come out no matter how much we beg you to.”

George groaned. He was annoyed because Sapnap was right. Nothing could drag him outside when he got into his episodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter should be out soon :D


	3. Arithmetic Operators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george has a hard time getting his exam done and his friends start to worry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, before you read, maybe follow my twitter? @xaccier  
> enjoy amigos

George piled his books into his locker, sighing at the weight being lifted from his arms. He slammed the door of it shut, happy that the week was over and that he didn’t need to deal with school for the weekend.

Suddenly, warm hands were covering George’s eyes, and a familiar voice whispered in his ear, “Guess who.”

After his initial shock, George rolled his eyes. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “Sapnap, get off.”

“Aw,” Sapnap complained, letting go, and George turned around to face him, unimpressed. “You take the fun out of everything.” George shrugged, and he picked his backpack up off the floor before turning to walk towards the door, Sapnap following next to him. The boy locked his hands together behind his head, leaning back in a casual way that made George slightly jealous—Sapnap was stacked up on detentions, and yet he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Speaking of which, “Do you have detention now?” George asked.

“Not tonight,” Sapnap sighed. “And thank God for that—me and the boys are going on our annual Friday Night Out tonight.”

George looked over sat Sapnap. “But let me guess, you have detention for the next two weeks or something stupid like that—“

“That doesn’t matter!” Sapnap interrupted. George narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t have it tonight. But that does mean that I wont be able to hang out after school for a while, so do you wanna come with us tonight?” George abruptly stopped walking. Sapnap slowed a few paces ahead when he realised George was no longer next to him, turning his head and lowering his arms. George stared at him, hand hooked under his backpack strap. “What? Do I smell?” Sapnap ducked his head to sniff at his armpits, and George strolled forward so that he was next to Sapnap again.

“No, its just—“ George seemed down, and Sapnap stopped his joking around at his friend’s sudden change in tone. “—I can’t. I’m still working on that dumb project.”

“The one you worked on in the library?” When George nodded, Sapnap winced. “Ouch, that’s tough. Is it difficult?”

“ _So_ difficult,” George groaned. “I can’t figure it out.”

“Well, I’d love to help, but unfortunately, I can’t code for shit,” Sapnap shrugged, jogging forward so that he could walk backwards in front of George. “Make sure you don’t spend all of your time cooped up inside, though George,” Sapnap gently placed a hand on George’s shoulder. “Remember what we talked about the other day?”

George remembered—Sapnap had drilled it into him that spending all day and night inside coding wasn’t healthy. George knew, however, that he needed to get his act together and finish his exam; if he had to stay inside all day and night to do that, he would. This exam would shape his future as a programmer, so he had to knuckle down. George coughed. “I’m not taking advice from the school clown.”

George huffed and pushed past Sapnap, who watched him go. After a moment of loneliness, a hand pulled on his shoulder from behind, and his attention was brought to Punz.

“Hey, Sapnap,” He started, and Sapnap took a final glance at George who disappeared through the glass doors of the school. “You ready for tonight?”

Sapnap nodded, face brightening ever so slightly. Punz looped an arm over his shoulders, and the two walked towards their group while Punz chatted Sapnap’s ear off about what movie they should watch after they got their milkshakes.

—

Dream sighed, turning his phone off and tucking it into his back pocket. He picked up his glass and gulped down the last of his vanilla milkshake, before slamming it back down on the counter with a refreshed feeling sinking down his throat. Sapnap laughed at something Bad said next to him, music blasting in everyone’s ears and dizzying lights affecting Dream’s ability to see straight. He couldn’t bring himself to care much though, because he was finally hanging out with his best friend after days of not talking to him.

Dream, Sapnap, Ponk, Punz, Bad and Ant had a tradition—every Friday after school, they would go to Shake Shack and follow it up with a movie. Tonight, though, they had decided to take their shakes and head to the new arcade that had opened up around the corner from the Shack. Now, the group was sat at the ‘bar’ (it could hardly be considered a bar, considering it was in an arcade), finishing off their milkshakes and chatting happily.

Dream noticed something off about Sapnap, though, when the shorter boy turned back towards the bar with a crease in his brow.

“What’s up with you?” Dream asked, voice loud enough to get it over the booming music. Sapnap’s head turned to him, and instantly his face lit back up, as though he hadn’t meant to be caught upset. It made Dream frown.

“Nothing, man!” Sapnap replied cheerily. Dream wasn’t buying it.

“Okay, now try the truth,” Dream crossed his arms over his middle, elbow moving to lean against the bar counter. Sapnap hesitated, and Dream raised his brow to edge him on. "I'll find out even if you don't tell me, so you might as well spill it."

Sapnap still looked unsure, but he spoke anyway. Slowly, he said, “Okay, well…” He turned in his spinning chair to face Dream properly, messing with his empty Oreo milkshake cup. “I’m just worried about George.” Dream’s interest was immediately spiked at the mention of his new friend— _could he even call him that?—_ 's name. “I think he’s doing that thing where he locks himself inside for weeks on end—even after I told him not to.” Dream hummed, slightly confused, and Sapnap backed down when George’s words from earlier that day echoed in his brain. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not babying him or anything… I’m just—uh, worried?”

“Sapnap, you don’t have to sugar-coat it,” Dream encouraged. “It’s okay for you to be worried.”

Sapnap nodded, slowly. “Is it? I just don’t know if I’m overreacting.”

“I don’t think you are,” Dream agreed with him after a bit of thinking. “It’s not healthy to stay inside for long periods of time. In fact, you should invite him to come out with us some time—“

“I already did, Dream!” Sapnap interrupted, and Dream was surprised at his volume. “I’m sorry—I just… I’m worried about him, man. Last time he did this, he got really sick.”

Dream furrowed his brows. “He did?”

“Yeah. Alex and I had to take care of him. That dude does not have a good immune system.”

Dream felt worry bubble up in his stomach. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t really know George that well, but he felt himself grow anxious at the boy’s antics. If Sapnap—the carefree clown—was worried, then Dream had a right to be. _‘Yeah,’_ he thought. ' _I have a right to be worried.’_

Sapnap’s coke that he had ordered finally arrived, and the boy whipped back towards the bar to take it from the bartender. Dream shook his head, trying to get rid of his uneasy thoughts, before reaching over and grabbing the drink from Sapnap’s hands, taking a big sip through his smug smile.

“Hey!” Sapnap complained, grabbing for it. “That’s mine, jackass!”

Dream laughed, handing it back before Sapnap jumped off his chair and ran away from Dream’s wrath to a nearby arcade game. Dream watched, and his thoughts immediately clouded with worry again as soon as Sapnap’s shouting was out of earshot. He shook the thoughts out of his head once again, before leaving his chair and jogging after his shorter friend to join him in his game.

After a few rounds of the basketball-throwing game (that Sapnap was surprisingly good at) Dream put the ball down and turned to his friend. Said boy continued throwing the small basketballs.

“You’re really close to George, aren’t you?” Dream asked out of nowhere, leaning against the metal side that separated him from the net. Sapnap snuck a glance at him.

“Yeah,” He answered, grunting as his throw missed the net by an inch. “Why?”

“George,” Dream repeated, as though he was testing the name on his tongue. “Tell me something about him.”

“Clingy, much?” Sapnap scoffed, bumping Dream slightly with a small kick to his shin and raising an eyebrow at him. “Weren’t you texting him at the bar?”

“No,” Dream answered, arms crossing over his chest again. “That was my Mom.”

Sapnap’s movement halted briefly, and the ball he had thrown missed. “Everything okay?” He asked carefully.

Dream exhaled. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Sapnap felt the air around them tense, and he felt bad for prying. “So, George then,” He changed the subject, and Dream’s arms fell back to his sides. Sapnap sighed. “What do you want to know?”

Dream whistled, as though he was thinking, and he picked up one of the small basketballs to throw it up and down in his hand. “I don’t know,” He shrugged. “Something.”

“You’re so annoying,” Sapnap complained, shaking his head and throwing the ball straight through the hoop. “Yes!” He exclaimed, proud of his aiming.

“Congrats,” Dream slow clapped. “You finally got one.”

Sapnap scowled at him. “Like you could do better.”

“Oh yeah?” Dream teased. “I could wipe the floor with your ass.”

“Wanna bet?” Sapnap replied, fire dripping from his words. Dream nodded, smirking, and the two started up their rounds. It began slow, both parties trying their best to aim perfectly, but after a few seconds, all hell broke loose. Both started lobbing their balls as hard as they could at the nets, missing more than scoring, but by the end of it, Dream came out on top.

“Ha! I win!” Dream’s competitive tone shone through, and Sapnap groaned, clearly bummed out at his loss.

“Whatever,” He spat. “Stupid game. I hate basketball anyway.”

Dream chuckled at Sapnap’s familiar pouting. “Of course you do.”

“I need a cola,” Sapnap exhaled, turning on his heels. He stopped, though, rotating his head to look back at Dream. “Oh, but first,” He started, and Dream looked up at him. “George’s favourite place in the entire city is the abandoned festival grounds on the peer by eighth.”

Dream blinked. “Huh—“

“Use that information wisely!” Sapnap was already turning the corner back to the bar before Dream could utter a proper response. The blonde stood, motionless, before his body caught up with him and he shook his head slightly.

“Huh?” He muttered, picking up one of the basketballs and bouncing it on the floor before deciding to follow after Sapnap.

—

Monday morning rolled around, and teenagers piled outside of fast-food restaurants and school gates, patiently—or not so patiently—waiting for school to start. Sam, Quackity and Karl were three of those many teenagers, sipping on their morning coffee (and hot chocolates—Karl was a sucker for a good chocolate drink) and chatting with tired voices about their upcoming lessons.

It was a humid temperature outside, and the Floridian air was so stuffy that drinking hot drinks probably wasn’t the best idea. Even so, the boys enjoyed them like they would be their last beverages ever.

“Ah,” Quackity huffed after a ridiculously long sip of his iced coffee. “That’s the shit right there.”

“You got that right,” Karl agreed, and Sam looked up from his phone.

“Guys, do we have any lessons together today?” He asked, and Karl looked over at Quackity for answers. Quackity knew everyone’s timetables, even people who weren’t his friends—it was a weird talent, but his friends appreciated it considering none of them could ever remember their lessons.

“We have economics together,” Quackity shrugged. “But that’s third lesson. We don’t have any other classes together for the rest of the day.”

“None?” Karl inhaled. “That’s bull.”

“ _We_ have a few lessons together, Karl,” Quackity whacked him on the back. “Just not with Sam or George.”

“Speaking of George,” Sam interrupted. “Where is he? He was supposed to meet us here.”

“He’s probably with Sapnap somewhere.” Karl sipped at his drink, unbothered.

“No, Sapnap’s in early morning detention with Fundy,” Quackity corrected. “They both spray-painted the school’s office wall yesterday and got caught.”

Sam shook his head, disappointed. “Why do they keep getting in trouble?”

“’It’s a free world, man!’” Quackity mocked Sapnap’s words from earlier that week, and the group laughed. “He needs to sort his head out.”

“You’re not wrong,” Karl laughed, throwing his drink into the nearby bin after finishing it. “But seriously, where is George?”

The group never got their answer, as George didn’t show up to school. His chair was empty for the whole day, and it stayed empty for three days after that.

When Friday rolled around and George was still nowhere to be found, and the group had given up on texts and calls because of them going unnoticed by the programmer, the three boys started to worry.

“Still no sign of George?” Sapnap asked, a cream bagel in his hands. Karl sighed.

“None,” He answered, and he noticed Sapnap’s gaze flicker away from him. He paused, before warily adding, “You don’t happen to know where he could be, right?”

Sapnap seemed to tumble over his words. “Uh, I—I don’t know… sorry, Karl.”

Karl eyed him suspiciously, but turned back to his sandwich and continued typing on his keyboard. Sapnap exhaled.

He didn’t want to lie to Karl. In fact, it made him feel horrible. But he felt as though he was betraying George’s trust again by telling him—last time George had locked himself inside, Sapnap had eventually told Quackity, and George didn’t talk to him for a week afterwards. Plus, he knew that Karl would be beyond worried, and that scared Sapnap to no avail.

Sapnap wrapped his arms around Karl’s shoulders, leaning his face into the boy’s neck. He inhaled gingerly, overcome with Karl’s familiar scent of cologne. It calmed him.

Karl tapped his arm in recognition, before carrying on with typing out his essay for Spanish. Sapnap watched in silence, and the two stayed like that for a while, Sapnap taking small bites of his bagel every now and again so as not to disturb the working student.

Eventually, Sam and Quackity joined them.

“Hey idiots,” Quackity smiled as he sat down, pulling his backpack off and throwing it under the table. He threw his Subway sandwich onto the table and immediately dug in. Sam joined him, silently sitting down and starting to eat his lunch, too.

“Where have you guys been?” Sapnap asked, and Karl chose to not bother looking up from his keyboard. “Lunch break is nearly over.”

“Dude, the queue for Subway was ridiculously long,” Sam complained, and Quackity hummed in agreement through a mouthful of bread. “And I’m guessing George still hasn’t shown up?”

“Yeah, no sign of him,” Karl replied, and the group collectively groaned. Sapnap looked away.

“That sucks,” Sam said, picking at the cucumber in his sandwich. The mood at the table had dropped in a matter of seconds. “I hope he’s okay.”

Quackity hummed. “We all do, Sam,” His face brightened. “But hey, I’m sure he’ll be back by Monday. He’s probably just taking a break—the kid needs one.”

“You’re right about that,” Sapnap interjected, and everyone turned to look at him. He blinked before looking away again. Sam and Quackity made eye contact, and Karl went back to his computer. Something felt off.

“Hey, Sapnap!” Called a voice, and everyone’s heads lifted to check it out. Sapnap’s head shot up at the mention of his name, and he stood up immediately upon seeing who it was.

“Hey, Dream,” He answered, holding his hand out for Dream to fist bump him, which he did. The two turned away from the group sitting at the table, who were used to Dream coming up to Sapnap, so they went back to chatting amongst themselves.

“Sapnap,” Dream started, looping an arm around the shorter’s shoulders. “Is George off today?”

“Huh?” Sapnap asked, and Dream cleared his throat.

“I’m just wondering because he wasn’t in English, so…” Dream trailed off, refusing to look Sapnap in the eye, who just raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“No, he’s not here,” Sapnap huffed, and he felt Dream droop slightly.

“Is he okay?” Dream asked. Sapnap’s words were caught in his throat all of sudden.

Eventually, he managed to say, “I don’t know. Dream, he's doing what I said he would do.”

Dream looked questioningly at Sapnap, before something in his brain clicked and he remembered their conversation from the week before. “Oh… You mean the thing where he locks himself up for days on end to code?”

“Yeah,” Sapnap let his eyes fall shut. “I’m worried about him, Dream.”

“Do the others know?” Dream asked, tipping his head towards the table where Quackity was throwing slices of ham at Karl. Sapnap stared at the table before his eyes dropped to the floor. Dream stepped back. “You haven’t told them, have you?”

“No,” Sapnap replied, pulling on his sleeve. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” Dream asked, eyebrows furrowing. Sapnap had told him, but he hadn’t told George’s best friends? Better yet, _George_ hadn’t told them?

“I don’t want them to worry, Dream,” Sapnap mumbled. “I know that they’ll start overthinking everything and make it a bigger deal than it is—“

“It _is_ a big deal, Sapnap,” Dream slightly yelled, before lowering his voice when he realised that they were in the middle of the school cafeteria. Sapnap took a step back. “I’m sorry. Look, I just think that they deserve to know, right? They’re George’s friends too. I know I'd want to know if it was me.”

Sapnap glanced over at his friends again, before straightening up. “No, Dream,” He answered, and Dream tipped his head to the side, disappointed in his answer. “If George wanted them to know, then they’d know already.”

“George didn’t want me to know, and I still do,” Dream reasoned.

“Yeah, but that was a mistake,” Sapnap pleaded, wanting the conversation to be over. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you. But I can’t get anything past you and your dumb IQ.” Dream laughed. Well, it was more of a scoff. “Look, I’m not telling them. And neither are you, so go back to the others and don’t bring this up around them again, okay?”

Dream wanted to argue, but Sapnap turned on his heels and walked back over to his table, draping himself across Karl once again. Dream watched the group laugh for a second before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned his back to them, walking back over to Bad and Ant.

George didn’t show up for the rest of the day, and soon enough, the end of school rolled around. Sam, Quackity and Karl we left to discuss George’s possible whereabouts after days of not seeing him.

“Sapnap said something about him locking himself inside,” Quackity suggested. “Do you think it’s that?”

“It’s gotta be, hasn’t it?” Karl inputted. He failed to mention Sapnap’s odd behaviour from earlier that day. “It makes sense. He has that really big exam coming up, right? It’s probably that.”

Sam tapped his fingers nervously on the table. “He’d tell us though, right? If that was the case?”

“Maybe he didn’t want any distractions?” Karl raised his shoulders.

“But even so, Sapnap would’ve told us,” Quackity replied. “And he hasn’t.” Karl was suddenly very interested in his nails.

“Yeah, but its not like we’ve seen Sapnap a lot lately,” Sam reminded. “He’s been busy with detentions. He only got out of it today because his friend lied for him, and even now he’s not hanging out with us or telling us anything.”

“Maybe its more serious?” Karl suggested. “It could be something private. Maybe he doesn’t want us knowing.”

Sam sighed. “If that’s the case, then we’ll have to leave it.”

“Hey,” Quackity got their attention. “Why don’t I go down to his place tonight and check on him? It can’t hurt, right?”

Sam looked over at Karl, who nodded.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “You should. I’d come too, but I’m looking after my little sister today.”

“It’s okay,” Karl assured. “I’ll go with him. We'll give you the rundown afterwards, is that okay with everyone?”

Quackity and Sam both voiced their agreements, and the group uttered their goodbyes to each other before abruptly heading home. Karl and quackity agreed to meet at George’s house at 7.

—

George curled his fingers into his hair, tugging lightly in annoyance. It had been days of none stop coding for the boy, and still, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get his plugin to work. Even now, surrounded by his textbooks and notes, he couldn’t figure it out. George wasn’t even sure what day it was at this point, and that thought made the boy decide that it was time for a short break.

“Jesus,” George swore under his breath, after picking his phone up from the corner of his desk and realising he had days worth of unread notifications. He skimmed past them all quickly, not paying them much mind. He opened his phone up and stared at the home screen for a while, eyes flicking back up to his program on his desktop every now and again. He briefly wondered if he could look up how to finish it, but he disregarded that thought when his phone vibrated in his hand.

**_Dream 4:57pm_ **

_hey, you haven’t been in school recently_

_how are things going with your project?_

George wondered how Dream knew about his exam. That was, before he realised that Sapnap had most likely told him. He made a mental note to slap the shit out of him.

George couldn’t see why Sapnap was so worried about him—he got sick last time, sure, but that was a coincidence. It wasn’t like he wasn’t eating or sleeping, he just wasn’t going outside. It wasn’t that big of a deal at all, and the fact that Sapnap had over exaggerated something like that to Dream without his permission made his blood boil.

Even so, he wasn’t mad at _Dream_ , was he? So he could still answer him. Plus, he already knew now, so what was the harm?

**_George 4:59pm_ **

_terrible_

_i swear i used to be good at coding_

A response came almost immediately.

**_Dream 4:59pm_ **

_lmaoo, that bad, eh?_

_anything i can help with?_

George smiled down at his phone.

**_George 5:00pm_ **

_i don’t think so_

_unless you know_ _arithmetic operators?_

**_Dream 5:01pm_ **

_is that math?_

George laughed, clutching his phone tighter.

**_George 5:01pm_ **

_something like that_

_listen i should probably get some food or something before I start coding again, but have fun_

_you’re out with sapnap and the others right now, aren’t you?_

**_Dream 5:02pm_ **

_yeah, we’re watchin a movie at ant’s right now :)_

_and sure, i’ll let you get back to it_

_i hope to see you in school soon, okay?_

**_George 5:03pm_ **

_haha, i’ll try_

_talk to you later :]_

**_Dream 5:03pm_ **

_see ya soon_

—

Dream clicked his phone off, tucking it into his hoodie pocket. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, pulling a pillow closer to him and tucking it in between his arm and the arm of the chair. The noise of the movie playing through Ant’s old speakers buzzed in Dream’s head, and he tapped his fingers absentmindedly against a pillow.

He was having a mental battle in his head as he stared at his friends, everyone cooped up together under multiple blankets. Popcorn was scattered across the room, accompanied by empty bottles of fizzy drinks and discarded pillows. He enjoyed their company, of course, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from being pulled elsewhere. The movie became background noise, and shifted in his place once again.

“Dude, are you okay?” Sapnap leaned over and whispered to him. The taller turned his head to look at him, knocked out of his thoughts. “You’re all… fidgety and shit.”

Punz, who had lied to the teacher and told him that Sapnap had a doctor’s appointment, had dragged the black-haired boy out of detention after telling him that there was no way he was missing Friday Night Out. Sapnap couldn’t refuse, and so here he was, sat on Ant’s couch without a care in the world.

Dream hesitated. He really wanted to go. “I," He started, Sapnap’s eyes burning into him. “Think I just need some air.”

Guilt piled up in his stomach as Dream went to stand, and Sapnap grabbed his hoodie sleeve to pull him back down.

“Will you be back?” Sapnap asked, and Dream said nothing. Sapnap let go and muttered, “I’ll cover for you. Just look after him, okay?”

Dream stayed still, even though Sapnap had let him go. He should’ve known that he wouldn’t be able to get anything past his best friend.

The blonde nodded. “Will do.”

No more words were exchanged as Dream stood, grabbing his backpack and walking to the front door. He opened it carefully, taking a look back at his friends, before stepping out of the house and closing it behind him. Sapnap hoped Dream could help—he had faith that Dream could make a difference, even if he was too worried to help him himself.

“Where’s he going?” Ant looked back at Sapnap from his spot on the floor, and he stayed staring at Ant’s front door.

“He’s helping out a friend,” Sapnap replied simply, and he let a small smile grace his face. “Pass a root beer.”

“Sure, boss,” Ant saluted at him, and he laughed, grabbing the cold beverage.

—

Dream hesitated a lot on his walk over, looking back at where he came from a few times. He hadn’t missed a single Friday Night Out since it had become a tradition, and he wondered why he was suddenly choosing to. He doubted his choices even more when he realised he had no idea where George actually lived.

Groaning, he pulled out his phone. He felt embarrassment pool in his chest as he pressed the home button, only to see that he had a new message from Sapnap.

**_Sapnap 5:41pm_ **

_george’s house is the third one when you turn right on seventh_

_good luck_

Dream blinked down at his phone, before looking up at the sky and thanking whatever higher power there was that he had a friend like Sapnap.

**_Dream 5:45pm_ **

_thank you sapnap_

_tell the others that i’m sorry for bailing_

**_Sapnap 5:46pm_ **

_don’t worry about it man, everyone’s cool with it_

_have fun_

**_Dream 5:46pm_ **

_i’ll try_

_you never know, i might be back at ant’s in a bit_

**_Sapnap 5:47pm_ **

_yeah right, like george will turn you away_

Dream read Sapnap’s text once, and then twice. And then a third time, just to make sure he read it right. He had no idea what Sapnap meant by that, but he hoped it was a good thing.

He pushed his phone back into his jean pocket and turned on his heels (he’d been walking in the wrong direction) towards George’s house.

It was a breezy day, and Dream pulled his hoodie closer to himself when wind brushed up against his bare arms, where his sleeves were rolled up. He realised that was probably why he was cold, so he pulled the sleeves down quickly. He was a sucker for the cold, considering he was a pure Floridian.

It was getting darker earlier now that they were heading into October, and warm-glowing lampposts lit up the darker patches of the streets. It was barely 6pm, and yet Dream felt as though it was closing in on midnight.

Turning a corner, Dream felt the air rush out from his lungs upon seeing the hanging white lights above him—they hung from washing lines and windows from top floor apartments, and they illuminated the street in frosty glows of white and gold.

Dream counted the houses as he walked.

One—an older looking house compared to the rest of them. The gates were hanging off their hinges, and the wood of the fences were chipped, paint falling off. The front window had a large crack running through it, but the house was painted in welcoming beiges that made it seem homely despite the dysfunctions.

Two—a more modern house compared to the first. Small roofs hung over the front windows, and they were painted a deep maroon. The top-floor windows were frosted, and the house itself was painted a clear white.

And three—George’s house was much like the second, however it wasn’t painted. The more natural look of bricks and cement shone through, giving the house a more cottage-like look. Dream liked George’s house the best.

He stood with his hand on the black gate for a while, staring at the front door as he tried to work up the courage to knock.

His confidence faltered, and he took a step back, removing his hand from the gate.

_‘I shouldn’t be here,’_ His mind screamed at him. _‘George and I haven’t even been friends for that long. It's weird. This is weird.’_

Another step back was taken, when suddenly Dream’s heart thumped in his chest.

_‘No, what am I doing?’_ He shook his head. _‘George needs me. He needs help.’_

Dream bounced up on his heels, shaking his hands to get rid of the pins-and-needles that had started forming in his fingertips. He pushed all of his thoughts to the back of mind, and before he could think twice, he pushed his way through the gate and strode up to George’s front door.

Three knocks. Three knocks, and now, there was no going back.


	4. Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> george is taken to his favourite place in the city by dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay on this chapter!! it ended up being harder to finish than I thought it would be lmao, thank you for being patient :D
> 
> enjoy :)
> 
> (my twitter is @xaccier btw, I dont have any other accounts. follow me on there if you wish hehe)

A faint knock on George's door echoing from downstairs made his head lift from where it was lolled back on his chair. He peered over at his door, before glancing back at one of the monitors where his feeble attempt at coding was displayed. Another groan of frustration involuntarily escaped him. He dragged himself up off his chair, bones cracking at the sudden movement after staying worryingly still in his chair for days. He cracked his knuckles, yawning, before gently scratching his head and making his way downstairs.

It was only when he reached his door that he realised he was nowhere near suitably dressed, and suddenly the idea of opening the door to a stranger while in his messy state was not only unappealing but was also, quite frankly, embarrassing.

George reached for his woolly winter scarf that hung loosely on a coat rack—or rather, a hook that was sloppily nailed into the wall—and wrapped it around himself, pulling it close to his face and smoothing out his hair. He took a quick glance at the mirror next to the wooden door before reaching for the handle.

He twisted it slowly and, instantly, winter air rushed into his face. His eyes stung, and once he blinked away the light that had suddenly blinded him, he could make out a tall figure standing on his doorstep.

"George," the man breathed, and even though his face was riddled with shadows due to blaring sun behind him, George instantly recognised who it was. Soft, cautious, and slightly surprised—Dream’s voice poured into his ears and George felt his face flush. Embarrassingly, _‘Is that actually Dream?’_ was his first thought.

"Dream?" George asked. He pulled the scarf closer to himself, suddenly _extremely_ self-conscious and embarrassed at his appearance. Lines of sun beamed down on Dream's cheekbones as his face lifted into a smile.

"George," The blonde repeated, this time much more breathy and almost relieved. George noticed him physically breathe out, and decided to step outside and close the door behind him, turning them both around so he could properly see the other boy. To his luck, the blonde didn’t seem to care about his appearance.

"What are you doing here?" George eventually asked, after a few failed attempts of confused babbling and stuttering. "How do you know my address?"

"Sapnap gave it to me," Dream seemed to push past the question breezily, moving on, but George mentally slapped his forehead. ‘ _Of course Sapnap gave it to him, that prick,'_ He thought, but snapped out of it when Dream spoke again. "And I'm here to take you out."

George blinked. "Take me out?" It was a feeble repeat, but George couldn't think of any other response.

"Yeah," Dream smiled. George blinked again. "I'm going to take you somewhere special."

The shorter of the two couldn't tell if the flirtatious tone in Dream's voice was accidental or if he was doing it just to mess with him—after all, the entire situation seemed like a joke. The most popular boy in school, the quarterback of the school football team, the boy with so many friends that it made his head spin, asking _George_ to go out? How could he not think it was a prank?

Somehow, George managed to quietly, _sceptically,_ mumble, "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Dream answered, voice so questioning that George had to take a double take on whether it or not it _was_ actually strange that Dream was on his doorstep asking him to go out with him—news flash, _it definitely was._

"Uh," George started, hands clenching around the wool material of his scarf. "I don’t think—"

He was interrupted mid sentence as one of his hands was clutched tightly in Dream's. Before he could even comprehend it, he was being dragged down the concrete steps of his home and out of the gate. He took a helpless look back at his house, before tugging on his hand, silently asking for it back.

George felt his thoughts whirl around in his brain, knocking him dizzy, and he couldn’t manage to voice any of them.

_’Why are you here? Where are you taking me? Why are you talking to me so casually? Why do you care?’_

Dream sent a small smile to George over his shoulder.

"I'm taking you somewhere, George, and you're going to love it," Dream promised, and George's lips squeezed into a thin line. His house faded away behind him slowly as he was dragged even further out of his cocoon of work, and that triggered his memory enough for him to completely halt in his tracks.

"Wait no, stop," he pleaded, and Dream did, turning back to look at George with an expression George couldn’t put his finger on—irritated? Disappointed? Sad? He couldn’t tell.

George took one last glance back at his house, which was barely in sight, before he turned back to Dream. His hand was still being held tightly, but he was too caught up in the moment to care, and made no effort to pull away.

"What's wrong?" Dream asked, voice monotone. George's eyebrows creased and he brought a hand up to rub at his temple.

"This is crazy," he voiced his thoughts aloud. "Dream, we can't—you can't—you can't just _kidnap me.”_

George watched, that same helpless feeling rising back up in his chest, as Dream's mouth quirked up into a grin. "Why not?"

George spluttered. "Wha—uh, because it's _insane?_ " George tried to be the voice of reason, head hurting. "You just rocked up at my house for no good reason and decided to take me on a date? Why?"

Dream's eyebrow rose. "A date?" He echoed. "It's not a date."

His tone sounded almost defensive, and George felt his stomach drop with disgust at his poor attempt at a joke. He quickly added, "I was kidding. Look, I have work to do, so if you don't mind I'd really like to get back—"

Dream groaned, cutting George off again. "Enough with the work, George! I get it, coding is hard, but if you spend too long trying to figure it out then you'll just burn yourself out. Take a break, let loose!"

George felt his body twist. He felt like a loser; he was in the midst of a partier, someone who had too many friends to count and who probably went on dates and outings every day. How could he compete? How could he call himself Dream’s friend when he seemed to just be another person in the mix? It plagued his mind and made his stomach churn.

Then again, maybe he just felt sick—he hadn't felt the familiar Floridian air in his lungs for a week, and the wind was unbelievably distracting. He hadn’t had the chance to pick up his coat thanks to Dream dragging him out without a second thought, and thanks to that, he was miserable. He missed his radiator, hoodies and heating—he wanted them back.

"It's cold," George sighed, puffs of winter air evaporating in front of him as a result of his exhale. "I just want to go home."

George thought about the countless nights he'd spent awake. He thought about the missed meals, his dry toothbrush, his messy hair, his worn out brain. He thought about it all, and then Dream's idea didn’t seem so bad—for a short second, it even seemed _enjoyable_ , whether he knew where he was going or not. A break seemed like something he needed.

But deadlines and missed exams and failed grades crept back up in George's mind, and letting down his parents _again_ weighed heavily in his thoughts.

Eventually, he pulled his hand away completely. He looked down at his sweatpants and blue shirt, smoothing them down and flicking his scarf back over his shoulder, pulling part of it up to cover his mouth. A hand went up to cradle at one of his freezing arms, trying to regain some heat, and he was about to turn around and walk away after Dream's silence but the sound of fiddling around made him glance up.

Dream shrugged his winter coat off carefully, pulling his arms out of the sleeves. George watched silently as the blonde tugged his hoodie down after it rode up slightly at the act.

Suddenly, a warm, black coat was being pressed to George's chest, and light eyes stared at him expectantly. His hands hovered in the air for a moment, before he finally spoke, "This is yours."

He wasn’t an idiot, he knew what Dream was insinuating; he wanted him to wear his coat. But George knew that it was freezing, and Dream’s hoodie looked unbelievably thin for a winter’s day. Not to mention, _it was weird._

"Yes," Dream nodded, agreeing. "And now I'm giving it to you." His words were slow, as though he was trying to get the point across. George didn't like it.

"No," he refused, pushing the fabric back towards Dream—even when his skin prickled with goosebumps and a small shiver rocked his body. "I can’t accept that."

Dream rolled his eyes, repeating George’s actions and pushing the coat back towards him. “Just take the coat, George. If it’ll make you come with me, then I don’t mind.”

A few seconds of silence passed as George stared down at it. His body begged him to take it—to pull around himself, to cuddle up to the warmth that he so desperately wanted—but something inside screamed at him that it was wrong, _that this was wrong._

Dream sighed, and suddenly the coat was pulled away. George leant forward, missing the warmth that had cradled his arms for a brief second.

He didn’t get to mourn long, though, as Dream flung the coat around the back of George’s head, pulling it tightly over his shoulders. George flinched at the movement, before his eyes widened. He looked up at Dream, who gazed down at him like he was waiting for something.

”Put your arms through,” Dream said. George gazed up at him. Dream’s hands stayed glued to the collar of the coat as though he were expecting George to shrink away from it. Like he would, though—as the warmth enveloped him, he couldn’t stop his body from coiling into it. It was heavenly, goosebumps melting away and shivers calming, and George felt his face flush from the heat.

He quickly pulled his arms through, defeated, and dipped his head into his scarf unable to look Dream in the eyes as let go of the coat collar.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to look at him, because as soon as George had properly pulled the coat on, his hand was grasped tightly once more and he was being pulled again. An incoherent yelp left him, but like last time, he couldn't bring himself to pull away.

He was still confused. He had no idea where Dream was taking him, he didn't know why Dream had come in the first place—so many questions flew through his head, still. But, as he stared at his fluffy scarf, still not daring to look up, the thought of his work slowly slipped from his mind accompanied by all of his worries. All he could focus on was the warmthhe was feeling—through his newfound coat, and through Dream's fingers lacing with his, wrapping around his heart and _squeezing_.

—

Dream felt his heart pick up speed as they turned onto eighth street, tall houses looming over the two connected boys. Shadows crept up on them from all around; the sun was completely down by now, the moon washing over them. The air surrounding the two boys was unusually easy, no awkwardness apparent, which Dream found strange—he wasn’t complaining, though. He felt vibrations up his arm as George, who was still clutching his hand, shifted around behind him. He looked over his shoulder.

“What’s up?” Dream asked, slowing down slightly to let George catch up to him. They walked side-by-side, arms swinging between them. Dream wondered if George had forgotten about their intertwined fingers. He hadn’t, but it didn’t bother him; his fingers were _freezing,_ and George’s hands were surprisingly warm. It wasn’t the first time he’d held hands with his friends either.

Could Dream even call George his friend yet, though?

“Hm,” George hummed, sending a suspicious glance over at Dream who simply sent a lop-sided smile back. “I’ve just… been here before.”

“Oh?” Dream asked through his teeth, smiling as he bit the inside of his cheek.

They rounded a corner, and suddenly bright lights were hanging above them. Dream felt the same tinge of surprise ooze into his bloodstream that he did when he was walking to George’s house, jealously racking his brain because, _‘Why can’t my street be this beautiful?’_

One more quick look over at George made Dream’s smile falter. He felt his brain cloud as he stared at the brunette, whose face was dusted with red and white from the dangling lights. They were still another corner away from their destination, but Dream felt the sudden urge to stay glued to the spot.

“These decorations…” George breathed out. “Who makes brown lights?”

Dream blinked. “… Brown?”

“Yeah,” George nodded, eyes flicking over to Dream who was knocked into silence. George halted at his surprised expression. ”What?”

“You said brown,” Dream repeated, looking between the— _clearly red—_ lights and George’s confused face. “They’re red.”

George’s mind seemed to black out. His face stayed motionless, until a flattering natural red blossomed over his features. “O-oh,” he rubbed at his neck with his spare hand, head dipping into his scarf. “Right. That’s what I meant.”

Dream raised an eyebrow, but George turned back around and continued walking, pulling Dream with him.

Dream barely had time to complain, though, as they neared the corner and he snapped his mouth shut. He jogged slightly to catch up to George properly, wanting to see his face when they turned onto the next street. Considering the brunette had obviously been to the destination multiple times, it still hadn’t seemed to actually dawn on him where they were heading.

The red lights behind them faded as the reached the end of the street, and suddenly rusting coasters and spinning cups and abandoned arcade stands came into view.

George’s mind blanked when Dream ran forward, spinning on his heels to face him and holding his arms up, as though he were presenting the peer to George as a Christmas gift. The brunette felt confusion bubble up inside him—the peer had been closed the year before, now surrounded by barbed wire fences and locked gates, with warning signs of crumbling coasters everywhere. Not to mention, the only person he’d ever mentioned the peer to was Sapnap, so how did Dream…?

Georges jaw dropped. Sapnap.

“Welcome to paradise!” Dream exclaimed, voice bouncing off the metal gates. George took a step forward, admiring the place that he hadn’t seen in so long, and Dream’s features softened. “I know its not the coolest place ever, but I figured you’d appreciate it.”

George was utterly dumbfounded. His attention was brought back to Dream, and he gripped his scarf tightly. He felt like crying—the gesture was so _sweet_ that it made him feel almost sick.

“This is…” George started, taking a few more careful steps forward so that he was past Dream, peering up past the gates at the long stretch of wood that hung over the sea. He remembered his Mum bringing him to the peer after his first day of school, telling him to go wild with the cotton candy and arcade games. He remembered the smell of salty sea water and burning donuts, mixed with the sounds of laughter and the whooshing of nearby rollercoasters. It _was_ paradise, like Dream had said—even abandoned and broken, the memories it held was enough to make George tear up. “This is amazing, Dream.”

George felt a presence creep up behind him, and he glanced up at the blonde who stared up dazedly at the high rides. Dream had his hands hidden away in his jean pockets, shoulders raised up, and he quietly exhaled a small breath at the sight. “It _is_ amazing, isn’t it?”

George nearly scoffed. He felt his surprise seeping away, slowly merging into happiness. Pure, unfiltered happiness.

“I meant—“ The brunette’s words seemed to die in his throat, and he gently shook his head, smiling. “Nevermind. How are we going to get in, though?”

"Good question..." Dream titled his head up at the gates, looking around. His tone was questioning, and George felt himself raise an eyebrow at the taller—he _did_ have a plan to get in, _right?_ "I guess we just hop the fence?"

George blinked— _again—_ and he realised quite quickly that he shouldn't be surprised anymore. "Hop the fence?" He deadpanned. "Seriously?"

"Yeah!" Dream cracked his neck, bobbing up and down on his toes as though he was readying himself. "What could go wrong?"

Before George even had the chance to retaliate—honestly, Dream loved involuntarily cutting him off—the blonde took a running jump onto the chain-linked fence and grasped onto the holes in it. He steadied himself before continuing his climb up, while George watched with... awe? Shock? God knows.

Dream hooked hand around one of the metal poles holding the fence up, before throwing a leg over the top and hauling himself up into a sitting position on the ledge that was connected to the gates. George rubbed at his arms mildly, the height of the fence worrying him; he didn't want Dream to _die,_ for God's sake.

A quiet laugh was heard from above George as Dream held his hand out, seemingly amused by the entire situation. George stared at his hand for a while, just out of reach, before shaking his head.

"You actually expect me to climb this fence?" George asked, voice flat. Dream laughed again, the same wheeze laugh that George had only heard once before. He felt that same feeling from the day he had heard it first, when they had called, flood through his chest.

"Yeah," Dream smirked down at him. "What, are you too short? Need some help?"

George felt his face burn. He scoffed, pulling his hands out from his coat pockets and clicking his fingers, also readying himself. Dream watched down with obvious curiosity and amusement, and George hyped himself up.

He ran, full force, at the fence, before taking a leaping jump and clinging onto the metal wiring. He felt old barbed-wire plunge their way into the skin on his fingertips, and he hissed at the contact before pulling one of his hands away. He looked down at it and, luckily, no blood was drawn.

When he looked back up, Dream's hand was outstretched next to his dangling foot. George was high enough to reach it by then, but his mind screamed at him that it was embarrassing to get help. He shifted on the fence, and when more barbed-wire stuck into his shin, he sucked up his cowardice with a roll of his eyes and locked hands with the blonde.

Instantly, he was being pulled the top of the fence. He grabbed onto the brick platform that Dream was seated on and held on for dear life as Dream's hand aided in getting him the rest of the way up.

George plonked himself down next to Dream as soon as he was steady enough to, pushing stray hair out of his face and throwing his loose scarf back over his shoulder. He felt disheveled, but something about sitting on the high fence and overlooking the hundreds of houses as well as the dark peer made his heart speed up. He felt intensity run through his blood and down his neck, and the wind gently soared through him as a shiver passed down his spine.

"Okay, ready to jump?" Dream asked, spinning around to face the wooden floor of the entrance of the peer. George copied, and soon enough their feet were dangling precariously over the edge. "I can help you down, if you want—"

Dream was interrupted mid-sentence when George decided that it was time for him to cut the blonde off for a change. He jumped, less than gracefully, but landed on his feet nonetheless, with a pleasing thud accompanying his land. He peered back up at Dream after dusting himself off, a clearly proud smirk plastered on his face.

Dream narrowed his eyes. George felt his heart pick up speed.

"You really are something," Dream mumbled to himself, before jumping down himself. He wasted no time in grabbing George's shoulders and pushing him to the nearby row of arcade stalls, but George quickly shrugged him off and continued walking himself. Dream didn't mind, and he caught up to walk next to the shorter who simply dipped his head into his scarf.

Dream noticed that he did that a lot. He didn't comment on it. He thought it was a nice quirk.

Upon entering the long row of arcade stalls, the pair decided to start their night off by picking out the old rubber-ducks stacked in large barrels to play hook-a-duck. They cleaned them off with a nearby hose connected to the brick wall, and water did come out, but neither of them had any idea where it was coming from.

Either way, the ducks were bathed in the mysterious water and were then set up the small wooden pool. It was filled with water by Dream, while George quickly cleaned off two fishing rods. Neither of them minded the small tasks—in fact, they quite enjoyed it with each other’s company.

”Catch,” George shouted over at Dream, who was forced to abandon his arms full of ducks to catch the fishing pole that was thrown at him haphazardly.

”George!” He seethed, hissing at him as soon as he knew he was safe from the pole’s wrath. “Why did you do that?”

”Uh,” George rolled his eyes. “Because it’s funny?”

Dream giggled, and George snorted, and soon enough the two were doubling over. It took them half an hour to get over it and get set up, and by the time they were actually hooking the ducks out of the makeshift pond, it was already 7pm.

”What’s that?” Dream asked after George’s turn, pointing at the yellow plastic duck the shorter held in his hand. He had fished it out mere seconds ago, and after a whoop of glee, Dream had noticed a small laminated paper stuck to the bottom. “It’s like... paper, or something.”

George tipped the duck upside, bringing it closer to his face upon inspection. “Oh, yeah,” He said, eyes scanning over it to quickly read the small printed writing. “I think it’s... a dare?”

”A dare?” Dream repeated, dropping his fishing rod in the pool to walk over to George. He peered over his shoulder and the two read and re-read the message scribbled on it. “What kind of dare?”

”You’re literally reading it,” George pointed out, turning his head to look back at Dream. He seemed surprised by Dream’s close proximity, and immediately whipped his head back to look at the duck. Dream ignored it.

”Okay, sassy,” the blonde laughed, and he could practically hear the eye roll he received in reply. That was another thing he noticed George did a lot—he didn’t mind; he thought it was funny, making George mad. “What does it mean though?”

”It’s pretty self-explanatory,” George replied, holding the bottom of the duck up to Dream’s face. Dream stared at the yellow, unable to read the message from how close it was to his face. If he leant forward slightly, it would brush his nose. “It says, ‘Push your friend off the end of the peer’.”

”It does not say that!” Dream snatched the duck from George who just giggled, turning back to the basket of water and throwing his hook back into the pool of ducks.

Dream’s face lit up. _Friend._

”Fine,” George said, and Dream looked up from the plastic animal in his hand. “It says, ‘Steal one of the ride tokens from the tokenmaster’. I don’t know how we’re gonna do that, though, considering this place is deserted.”

”I wasn’t actually gonna _do_ the dare,” Dream laughed, picking back up his fishing rod too. He threw the hook into the pool from behind one of the barrels, seeing how far it could stretch. He waited a moment. “... unless you want to?”

George glanced over at him. “Do you?”

Dream stiffened, before letting his shoulders relax as though he remembered something. “It’s your day out, you pick. We can just fish or...” he started, moving from behind the barrel to stand next to George. He lightly shoved him with his hip and George stumbled, and when he looked back up, Dream was looming over him. “We can make this interesting.”

George seemed to think. Either that, or he was just staring. Dream backed up, recoiling his hook and throwing it back in. After a minute, George hummed, copying Dream’s actions. “Alright, fine,” He sighed in defeat, “I guess we’ll ‘make this interesting’. We probably won’t be able to do half of them, though.”

“That’s okay,” Dream smiled. “We’ll improvise. You go first.”

George groaned. “Fine.”

He pulled his rod back out and aimed, waiting a moment to line himself up, before his pole was swinging through the air. It immediately latched onto one of the metal hooks of a duck, and he pulled it back out.

Dream swallowed. “Not bad.”

”Thanks,” George smiled—smirked?—and he pulled the duck off the end of the pole. “I used to go fishing with my Dad back in England.”

”England?” Dream asked. He’d never heard George bring it up before—obviously, he could tell by his accent that he clearly wasn’t from Florida, but he had just assumed that George didn’t want to talk about his home country. Thinking about it, that was probably stupid to assume.

”Yeah,” George replied. He looked up at Dream, duck still in hand, but the two momentarily forgot about their little game. “They had the most gorgeous blue lake in a forest-park near my house. Me and Dad would go there every Sunday when I was growing up.”

Dream grimaced. “Why did you stop?”

To his surprise, George just shrugged. “I don’t know. Grew out of it, I guess.” The brunette turned the duck over in his palm and quickly read the message scrawled on the back, Dream dropping the subject. “It says, ‘Steal some candy floss and eat it’.”

Dream raised his eyebrow. “Why do all of these have to do with stealing? Wasn’t this game made by the park?”

George scoffed. “Are you kidding? The handwriting on the back suggests it was made by a five-year-old.”

”Don’t underestimate a five-year-old’s ability to run a festival ground, George,” Dream said, pointing a finger at him, and George couldn’t help but laugh at the blonde’s serious tone.

”Right, right, of course,” George held his hands up in mock surrender. “My bad.”

After careful—or not so careful—consideration, the two decided that they’d give the dare a go. George pointed out the nearest cotton candy stall, and they made their way over. It was a two minute walk at most, around a food court, past a few rides and up a wooden staircase.

Standing on the top of the staircase proudly, overlooking the sea, was a small wooden cart with a giant logo reading, ‘Crea’s Cotton Candy Cart’. George let a smile grace his face as he laid eyes on it, memories of the summer before once again flooding back to him. Days when the sun would set later in the evening, bathing the world in a bright orange—not that George could _appreciate_ the sunset like everyone else—and warm summer air would coat your skin and pink cotton candy would be stuffed in your mouth and melt away on your tongue; George remembered it clearly, and it set his heart in a daze. _Paradise._

He was knocked out of his trip down memory lane when Dream semi-skipped past him. He tightened the scarf around his neck, watching as Dream flipped on his heels to smile back at George.

Their walked halted as they came up to the stand. After a second of admiration at the old shop, Dream leant down on one knee in front of the door that lead inside, and George’s eyes creased.

”What are you doing?”

Dream didn’t answer, and George was about to repeat himself when a small click was heard. Dream lifted himself up onto his feet and dusted his hands off, and George crossed his arms over his coat.

”Tah-dah,” Dream announced, moving the side and gently pushing the door. It creaked open, revealing the dark inside of the cotton stand.

”What the—“ George cut himself off, arms falling from where they were previously crossed over his middle. “Did you just _break in?”_

”Calm down!” Dream chuckled at George’s horrified expression. “We’re literally here to _steal cotton candy._ Plus, this place is abandoned anyway.”

George grimaced. He didn’t like the thought of breaking in _or_ stealing, but, somehow, Dream’s easygoing smile and reassuring stance made him take a few steps forward into the stand.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this chapter :)  
> please don’t forget to leave a kudos & maybe a comment too, it lets me know that you’re enjoying the story <3


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